


A Clusterf*ck of F*cks

by gracesfonda, julesshondaland



Category: Grace and Frankie (TV)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Lesbian Character, Lesbian Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2019-01-08
Packaged: 2019-09-25 10:16:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17119466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gracesfonda/pseuds/gracesfonda, https://archiveofourown.org/users/julesshondaland/pseuds/julesshondaland
Summary: the new season of Grace and Frankie is approaching us VERY quickly (thank the goddess) and as a celebration of that, i wanted to create a fun fic that the fandom would enjoy and all ya lil nasties (me included) seem to really enjoy a good smutty piece so in this fic i will give you exactly that: a clusterfuck of fucks (huge thanks to julia for helping me with the name! you are the real mvp) every once in a while i might throw in some fluff but it will mostly be lots of gay grandma sex  :)





	1. The Christmas Party

**Author's Note:**

> MERRY CHRISTMAS, this is my present to all y’all grace and frankie lovers out there!! i hope you have a blessed and wonderful christmas. thanks for checking out the story and for reading, i hope you enjoy. leave any feedback you might have in the comments, i love hearing from you guys!

Grace descended the stairs, her heels clicking rhythmically beneath her. She had one hand gripping the rail, helping herself down the decline, while her other hand worked hard to hold the remainder of her martini steady and not spill on herself. She looked around hers and Frankie’s home, the beach house and smiled to herself. Her eyes scanned over the guests, the beautifully decorated walls and tables with their holiday decor and most importantly: the liquor table. She crossed the floor on steady, slow feet, opting for style instead of comfortability had some setbacks, and the heels she wore today were just that: a setback but a necessary one for the greater good of looking fabulous. Without them, her outfit was just an outfit, but with them, it was a statement. Grace was under no impression that she wasn’t overdressed, but what kind of host would she be if she wasn’t fashionably late and just plain fashionable?

The last of her martini slid down her throat, hardly even giving her the familiar burn she’d come to love so much and she refilled her glass to the brim with vodka, skipping the vermouth and olives. The smell of the Grey Goose lingered around her and filled her nostrils, the familiar sting bringing a smile to her lips. 

“Looking good, kid,” Came a booming voice from behind her, and she turned to face her ex husband, now a few inches shorter than her with her heels, wearing a nice suit. Leave it to the two of us, she thought.

“Thank you, Robert. You, too,” Grace replied, smiling genuinely. Of course, she knew she looked good, she had spent the last six hours perfecting herself. It wasn’t everyday that she and Frankie threw a party, so she had been using the motto ‘all or nothing’ as an excuse to be extra for for the whole damn event even if it was only their families and a couple more than a few friends. Grace’s short blonde locks were wavy, gently resting against her bare shoulders; her makeup was subtle, a simple red lip in contrast to her usual look; and her outfit was the main attraction: a white lace jumpsuit with long sleeves, open shoulders, thin straps tying at the base of her neck, bell bottomed legs, and clinging to all her curves in all the right places. 

“Watch out for the mistletoe!” He warned, with a small laugh, drawing her back out of her head and into the present. “Brianna is being very pushy about it.” 

Grace grabbed her drink from the table and laughed. “Speaking of Brianna, I should go talk to her and welcome everyone else. Have fun, Robert,” She gave him a tight smile before taking a drink of her newly refilled glass and squeezed his arm. 

“Always a great host,” Robert praised her, and Grace turned from him to begin making her rounds, greeting family and friends, sipping slowly on her vodka. She had two martinis over the six hour period while she was getting ready and a shot with Frankie when she came up to her room bearing tequila while Grace was still in her robe, hair done and sprayed, busy applying her makeup, telling her it was time to pregame before people showed up. Grace was nowhere near drunk but she had a good buzz going, and with the drink currently in her hand half gone, she was only allowing herself two more before the night was over; well at least until the guests left. Pace yourself, she whispered to herself.

Upon finding Brianna, Grace immediately understood what Robert meant by his mistletoe comment, and he wasn’t kidding. Brianna was sitting on the couch with Frankie, joint in hand, bottle of vodka in the other—almost like she was more a mix of herself and Frankie than a mix of herself and Robert, Grace thought, but quickly dismissed the distraction—monitoring the mistletoe that hung from the ceiling and forcing any two people who passed under it to kiss and single goers to kiss her. 

“What the fuck!” Grace scolded, “Weed is always smoked outside, Brianna! Even when we’re drunk,” She reached out and yanked the joint out of her daughters fingers, her harsh action spilling a little vodka trickling down her arm but she marched towards the back door without missing a beat.

Grace watched Brianna roll her eyes as she stood up from the couch, dragging her feet as she walked to the back door. “It wasn’t even lit mom, calm down. Come smoke with us, just a few hits. You need to chill the fuck out,” Brianna said, placing her free hand on Grace’s bare shoulder.

“Sure, why not,” Grace agreed, loving the sound of a good toke. She hadn’t smoked much lately, hadn’t seen much of Frankie either and right now she was craving both. The two women sat in chairs on the patio, Brianna lit the joint and passed it back to her mother. Frankie joined them, sitting down three shot glasses and her now dented fifth of patron on the table in front of them. 

“Woo! Tequila! Frankie wants to have a wild night!” Brianna chanted and Grace shook her head, opting out. “Don’t be such a puss, mom!” She whined, making Frankie chuckle. 

“Oh, for fucks sake! Fine, what the fuck, why not? I must be the only one here who gets horny from tequila but who cares?” Grace complained, rolling her eyes as Brianna poured the shots and Frankie took a hit of the joint. 

“You are so dramatic, mother. Weed and tequila is literally the first half of the starter pack for multiple orgasms,” Brianna shrugged, Frankie choked on smoke, and Grace rolled her eyes again.

“And what's the other half?” Grace asked, not fully sure if she actually wanted to know.

“The ménage and Frankie’s yam lube.”

“Now you’re onto something there!” Frankie squealed as soon as she had her coughing fit under control. 

“Well, unlike you two I don’t have a man to accompany me tonight after all this tequila and weed,” Grace continued to complain, only half serious at this point, a smile threatening to tug at her lips.

“Jesus, you really are so dramatic!” Frankie laughed, bumping into Grace with her hip, causing both of them to burst into a fit of laughter. 

“Shots!” Brianna yelled, refocusing them to the task at hand. 

Grace picked her shot glass up off the table, trying not to let any spill over even though it was filled to the brim. “What are we cheersing to?” Grace asked.

“To multiple orgasms!” Frankie yelled right as Mallory came out the back door, making everyone laugh. 

“To multiple orgasms!” Mallory yelled and held up her glass of red wine then took a drink, making everyone laugh harder, including Mallory. 

“Stop laughing and take the shots before we spill them!” Frankie said, holding hers out in front of her, waiting for the others to cheers with her then the three of them tossed their glasses back like pros, leaving Grace thinking how she taught both of them well. 

“Hey, Mal. You want one?” Grace asked her other daughter as she approached the patio table where Grace sat, retiring the tequila and back to drinking her martini glass of vodka.

“You having one with me, mom?” Mallory asked, bright smile on her beautiful face.

“Your Aunt Frankie and Brianna will,” Grace answered, sweetly, matching her daughters big smile. “I can’t get too drunk at my own party, sweetie.”

“Since when?” Brianna asked from behind her with a laugh, Grace didn’t have to turn around to know she was high fiving Frankie, as if they had some sort of inside joke Grace wasn’t a part of. 

“Brianna,” Grace said sternly, not wanting to argue with her daughter. 

“Oh, Grace, lighten up. How about just a halfsie shot then?” Frankie asked, waving her arm toward Brianna and Mallory who both now had their shots in hand, ready to go. Grace shook her head at Frankie, slightly annoyed with her need to always play the part of the mediator, no matter the situation. 

“Fuck me,” Grace sighed, as she picked up the shot and clinked her glass against her daughters, never breaking her gaze she held with Frankie until she threw her head back, swallowing the horrible tasting liquor; knowing all too damn well she was going to be drunk and hornier than hell when the weed and alcohol made their way into her system in the next half an hour, and there was nothing she could do about it. 

Grace set her shot glass down on the table, hoping people would start leaving soon enough though everyone had only arrived a little over an hour ago. She peered through the glass doors at the people still inside, only a few lingering: Bud, Allison, Robert, Sol, Coyote, Janet, Arlene, Peter, Barry, Sheree and a few others were all that was left. Deciding to mingle with them instead of being antisocial, she took off inside the house.

“Frankie!” Grace yelled behind her and Grace stopped to turn around in the middle of the living room to see what Frankie needed. She was walking up to her holding Grace’s half full martini glass full of vodka out to her. Grace took it with a smile and turned to leave when she heard a pounding on the glass door.

“You’re under the mistletoe!” Brianna yelled. “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” She chanted with a grin on her face, somehow becoming louder with each repetition, and just when Grace thought it couldn’t get any worse, Mallory joined her. Grace felt a hot blush creeping up her neck and settle into her face, she was about to hold up her middle finger to her daughters when Frankie grabbed her face with both hands and kissed her hard on the lips. 

The kiss was nothing out of the ordinary, no longer than a kiss between them would last on the cheek or the forehead, but this kiss wasn’t on the forehead or the cheek. It was on the lips and that changed everything for Grace. Frankie pulled away, her eyes bright and a smile pulling at her lips. Grace placed a hand on the back of the couch, trying to steady herself from the spinning room. Somewhere behind her she heard people chuckling, the distant buzz of conversations, and Brianna and Mallory whooping and hollering, but the only thing Grace could concentrate on was Frankie’s lips. 

“Are you okay, Grace?” Frankie asked, reaching her hand out to touch her arm.

“Don’t touch me!” Grace shrieked, trying to keep her voice steady along with the room. “I can not believe you did that, Frankie!” Grace said, lowering her voice when a few heads turned in her direction. “With all these people here!” She whisper yelled.

“Half of them are gay!” Frankie began defensively, then her face softened as she looked into Grace’s eyes. “Grace, I’m sorry. I’m a little buzzed and we are under a mistletoe and Brianna wasn’t going to let it go until both of us kissed someone. What's the big deal?”

“The big deal?” Grace had to fight back from yelling again. “The big deal is this!” She turned on her heel, caught Brianna out of her peripheral vision mouthing “I’m sorry,” to Frankie, grabbed Frankie by the hand and began pulling her in the direction of the bathroom, towards privacy. 

Grace entered the bathroom first, pulling Frankie in behind her. Frankie closed the door, took a deep breath and began to talk before turning to face Grace. “Look, Grace, I’m sor--” Frankie started and turned back to the other woman but was stopped short by Grace pushing Frankie against the closed door, her hot mouth catching Frankie’s open and mid word. Grace’s hands found their way to Frankie’s thick hair. Frankie kissed her back before thinking better of it and quickly pushing her away.

“Grace, what the fuck?” 

“I’m sorry, I just wanted to get you alone,” Grace whispered against Frankie’s neck before trailing open mouthed kisses down it. She felt Frankie go slack against the door and chuckled to herself before making her way back up her neck. Grace connected her lips to Frankie’s again, her hands still in her long hair. This time, when Grace flicked her tongue over Frankie’s bottom lip, Frankie opened up to her, let her explore her with her tongue. Frankie moaned into the kiss and Grace pressed her thigh between Frankies already parted legs, feeling heat through the fabric of all their clothes. Frankie pulled Grace closer by her hips and grounded down on her thigh, leaving Grace seeing stars behind her closed eyes. 

“Frankie,” Grace whispered, breaking the kiss, her chest heaving. “Can you be quiet?” She asked, looking deep into Frankie’s eyes, searching for permission. 

Frankie’s bottom lip disappeared between her teeth before her she began to nod her head frantically. “Yes, I’ll try,” Frankie promised although she seemed unsure of herself, but Grace couldn’t bring herself to care; she wanted this, wanted Frankie too damn much. 

“Okay,” Grace agreed, her hand sliding past the waistband of Frankie’s flowy pants and inside her panties, Grace was met with a wetness she wasn’t expecting, one that wouldn’t have surprised her 40 years ago but one she wasn’t sure women their age could produce on their own. A low moan escaped its way out of her throat, landing in Frankie’s soft hair. Frankie’s pants were loose but the confinement of them was not something Grace was used to, having only ever done this to herself when she was completely undressed. 

“Oh, Grace,” Frankie whispered into the blonde woman's neck as Grace slid two of her long, skinny fingers into Frankie, her thumb coming to rest against Frankie’s clitoris. 

“Next time, I want to taste you,” Grace told her, her own thighs pressing together sightly, her reaction to her own words catching her off guard. Grace let her thumb lazily circle around Frankies little bundle of nerves every few seconds, just a little off harmony with her fingers, not wanting Frankie to come too fast, before it had even started really, even though they had no time to go slow, their children were right outside. “I would drop to my knees right now and bury my face between your thighs but I wouldn’t want to risk you screaming my name when we have a houseful of people on the other side of that door,” Grace continued, surprised at herself, never having been one for dirty talk.

Frankie’s head lolled back and banged against the door, causing Grace to chuckle. “Grace Hanson, I never pegged you for a dirty talker,” Frankie told her through gritted teeth and closed eyes. She looked at Grace, “but then again, I never thought I’d see you fuck a woman either.”

“Yeah? And, how am I doing?” Grace asked, eyes hooded, her mouth pouty, voice deep.

“Pretty damn good, where’d you learn to do this?” Frankie replied, biting her lip to suppress a moan. 

“I’m just fucking you how I like to fuck myself, when I want myself to last. I didn’t want you to come too fast, I want you to come hard, Frankie.”

“If you keep talking like that, I’m not gonna last five more seconds let alone long enough for whatever you have planned,” Frankie sighed, her chest rising and falling harder than it had been before. Grace brought her thumb back to the right rhythm on Frankie’s clit, up to tempo while she fucked her harder with her fingers, ignoring the pain in her wrist. Frankie let out a guttural moan, and Grace forgot about her wrist pain, all she knew was Frankie was close, knew she was about to let go.

“Frankie, you have to be quiet,” Grace reminded her against her lips, her thumb working faster now, taking Frankie as high as she could before she exploded. Grace felt Frankie’s thighs quake, watched her eyes roll up in her head and she connected her mouth to Frankie’s in a searing kiss, catching a the moan in Frankie’s throat as Frankie came against her hand. 

Grace watched as Frankie came down from her high and came back to her body, a little more each second; a thin layer of sweat covering her face and Grace’s. Grace slipped her hand from the confinement of Frankie’s slacks and missed the heat immediately. While she held Frankie’s eye, she brought her hand to her face and sucked her two sticky fingers into her mouth, letting her tongue swirl around them, tasting them. The moan she let out was not one she planned, not one she had meant to let be heard, the taste of Frankie on her fingers wasn’t something she thought she’d crave but the moment it hit her tongue, she knew she was wrong and the arousal she somehow had suppressed slapped her in the face, reminding her she hadn’t gotten off yet. 

“Christ on a cracker, Grace, I want to fuck you so hard right now,” Frankie said, her voice cracking as she stepped closer to Grace, eyes dilated and darker than she’d ever seen them. 

Grace knew there was no time, knew their families were right on the other side of the thin door, knew she was missing her party but she couldn’t bring herself to care. “How would you like me?” Grace asked, reaching behind her for the zipper on the back of the jumpsuit when a knock at the door made both of them jump, wide eyed.

“Look, I’m sorry I made you guys fight. We’ll take the mistletoe down, just come out already!” Brianna yelled through the door, making them both giggle.

“Be out in a second!” Frankie answered for them, then looked down at Grace’s shaking hands. “Are you going to be okay to go out there before I finish you off?” She asked.

“I don’t know,” Grace answered truthfully. “I’ve never felt like this before,” she motioned towards herself: the shaking hands, flushed cheeks, cracking voice. “It won’t take me long, I think I’m basically there already.” 

“Oh, honey,” Frankie sighed, then quickly checked to make sure the door was locked behind her. “I want you out of that fucking getup you have on but we don’t have time. So I want you up on the counter, legs spread. I’ve gotta be fast,” Frankie instructed, before straddling Grace on the sink, grabbing her by the ass and pulling her to the edge of the counter. She had one hand against the wall behind them as she kissed Grace’s bare shoulders while she quickly found Grace’s clit with her other hand through the thin fabric of her jumpsuit. Grace shuddered against her, a small orgasm in itself just from Frankie’s touch and Frankie vowed in that moment to spend the rest of her time on this earth making Grace come the way she deserved.

“Mmm,” Grace moaned, her teeth clenched together as she pulled Frankie’s hair and wrapped her legs around Frankie’s waist, her hands flung out to both sides of her, trying to ground herself to something and she knocked every bottle on the skin over. “Fuck,” she mumbled, before the thought was gone from her head and the only thing on her mind was the feel of Frankie’s fingers against her clitoris, and the orgasm that was right on the horizon. So close Grace could see it.

“Come for me,” Frankie whispered in Grace’s ear and then gently bit her ear lobe, sending her over the edge. Grace let her head fall back as she bit her lip hard—the rusty taste of blood over powering the earthy taste of Frankie in her mouth—to suppress the moans threatening to spill out of her lungs, her vision went blurry and she clung to Frankie, needing her closer. Once her orgasm subsided and her breathing returned somewhat to normal, Grace let go of Frankie and pulled herself off the counter slowly with a smile on her face. She leaned into kiss Frankie and quickly pulled away before she could get carried away and turned to leave after giving herself the once over in the mirror. Frankie caught her by the hips and pressed her body flush into Grace’s backside.

“When everyone leaves I’ll see to it that you get a proper orgasm, one with less clothing and more screaming,” Frankie told her, letting go of her with a bite to her exposed shoulder and a slap to her firm ass, leaving her aching between her thighs and wishing for everyone to go home, yet again.


	2. The Cleanup

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey y’all! so i am currently drunk in the middle of the day on VACATION! thank the goddess but anyway, i finished this chapter the other day and just wanted to drop it here for y’all since i wont be able to write another probably until i get home next week. i didn’t read through it and check for mistakes or spelling errors and for that i’m sorry. lol. please enjoy :)

Grace descended the stairs, eyes half open, hair a mess, and still in her pajama top and panties. Her right hand darted out to turn on the light as she walked into the kitchen on bare feet and switched on the coffee pot with a yawn, her groggy mind having been excited to drink the heavenly liquid since before her eyes even opened this morning. She turned around, grabbing for her coffee cup out of the cabinet and found herself face to face with the scene of a crime: every single bottle of cleaner they owned laying in the sink and on the counter, a pile of rags and towels, and a bucket filled with what looked like dirty mop water.

“Frankie!” Grace yelled, suddenly forgetting about her coffee, the only thing on her mind being how the fuck Frankie managed to make such a mess when she came to bed only half an hour after Grace had, smelling nothing like the chemical arouma’s that were taking up the kitchen. “Get your ass down here right fucking now!” Grace waitied, eyes focusing on the coffee pot as it began to fill up. She poured herself a cup before it was ready and leaned up against the counter with it in hand. “Frankie!” She tried again, getting no response. “Fuck me, it’s not even noon yet and I’m past my limit.” When her coffee was gone and there was still no sign of Frankie, she took off up the stairs.

Grace entered her bedroom to find Frankie in the middle of the mattress, hair spread all around her, laying on her back, snoring. “Frankie?” Grace whispered, her whole demeanor changing, she felt her anger disintegrating, felt it being replaced with something more devious. Her wet tongue grazed across her lips as she watched Frankie sleep from against the doorway. She grinned playfully as her feet slowly and quietly began moving her closer to the bed. 

Grace crawled onto the mattress to the left of Frankie, slowing her movements to a halt when Frankie began to stir in her sleep. When she settled, Grace gently threw her skinny leg over the other woman's body, and dipped her head down to whisper in Frankie’s ear.

“Baby?” Grace husked then bit gently on Frankie’s ear lobe, earning a sleepy moan from the woman beneath her. “Wake up.” 

“Good morning to you, too,” Frankie whispered, her arms coming around to Grace’s hips, pulling her down further.

Grace let her hand graze across Frankie’s chest as her lips connected to her collarbone. “It will be,” Grace kissed again. “After you clean the kitchen,” she said, abruptly stopping and rolling off of Frankie. 

“Don’t stop,” Frankie whined, reaching out to catch her, bring her back, anything to keep touching her.

“No, you don’t,” Grace slapped one of Frankie’s hand away from the tie of her robe and the other from her bare thigh, laughing as Frankie pouted. “How about this?” Grace asked, voice low, dripping with sweetness and manipulation, . “Why don’t you clean up your mess in the kitchen and then we can make a whole new one out of you on these sheets?” 

“I’d rather make a new mess than clean up one I already made, so lets get you out of those clothes,” Frankie said, turning onto her side and capturing Grace’s lips in a primal kiss. Her tongue probing Grace’s mouth, a moan from the blonde woman vibrating into Frankie. Her hands found their way to the sash of Grace’s robe and wasted no time ripping it open. Frankie made fast work of slipping the robe away from Grace’s body and snaking her right hand between Grace’s muscular thighs, knowing she only had about three seconds and one try to find her clitoris and rend her completely useless before she caught onto Frankie’s plan of making her forget the mess in the kitchen. 

Grace’s hands fell from Frankie’s shoulders and her body went slack under Frankie’s rough fingertips, and she momentarily forgot to fight Frankie off. “Mmm,” She hummed, back arching towards Frankie with each pulse of her fingers. Grace sat up and shrugged her robe the rest of the way off her body, leaving her in her tee shirt and panties. 

“Frankie,” She moaned, scooting away from Frankie’s touch, away from Frankie’s distraction. “Kitchen, now!” She ordered, her chest heaving.

Frankie increased the pressure of her fingers on Grace’s clitoris, not giving up and really not wanting clean the kitchen. “Wouldn’t you rather just sit on my face?” She asked, pulling Grace back to her with her free hand.

“Baby, I’m not telling you again. Clean the goddamn kitchen or I’m not putting out for a week,” Grace repeated, fully freeing herself from Frankie’s grasp, missing the friction as soon as it was gone. She looked over at Frankie from across the bed, finding her grinning. “Then we can finish what I started in here,” She added.

“Yeah right, like you could last a week without this,” Frankie laughed, wiggling her two fingers in front of her face. She watched Grace’s sharp intake of breath, further confirming her accusations. 

“I have my own fingers you know,” Grace challenged back from across the room, pausing from tying her robe back into place to wiggle her own long fingers in the air. 

“Mmm,” Frankie sighed, standing up from the bed. “Well don’t have too much fun with them while I’m cleaning the kitchen.”

“I can’t make any promises,” Grace laughed.

“You’re really not helping the fact that I don’t want to clean,” Frankie complained as she left the room, leaving Grace alone with her arousal and thoughts. She picked up her phone and to little surprise had no notifications. Why would she? Frankie is the only one who texts her besides the kids every once in a while, making sure she hasn’t died. Little did they know this, here with Frankie, has been the most alive she’s felt in her whole life. Ironic really, feeling alive for the first time right as time’s about to run out. She set her phone back down on the dresser and walked into the bathroom. Her skinny fingers turned the knob on the shower, making the water just about as hot as it would go, then she stripped off her clothes and stepped into the spray.

Grace wrapped a towel around her damp body and stepped out of the bathroom, the hardwood cold against her bare feet. Wet hair was sticking to her exposed shoulders. Her hands dropped the towel and pulled open her dresser drawer, took out Frankie’s Free Willie tee and pulled it over her head, not bothering to put anything else on then she took off out of her bedroom to find Frankie and hopefully a clean kitchen. 

She crept down the stairs, and rounded the corner to find Frankie with her back to Grace washing the dishes, the kitchen spotless compared to what it was when she woke up. Grace quietly walked up behind the brunette, stopping just before their bodies met. “You cleaning is a real turn on,” Grace whispered into Frankie’s ear, her fingers digging into Frankie’s hips pulling her back into her.

“If I knew it was going to be an aphrodisiac, I would have done it ages ago,” Frankie said, her head lolling to the side as Grace placed kisses down her neck.

“No, you wouldn’t have,” Grace laughed between kisses, sneaking one hand from Frankie’s hips up her tee shirt, connecting with a pert breast.

“You’re right, I--” Frankie’s sentence stopped short when Grace rolled her nipple between her thumb and finger. “Grace,” Frankie moaned, her knuckles white from gripping the counter in front of her. “I need you.”

“How do you want it?” Grace husked as she pushed her body flush against Frankie’s.

“Here, now,” Frankie groaned, taking Grace’s free hand and guiding it to the waistband of her sweat pants. 

“Here?” Grace asked, her voice dropping an octave as arousal pumped through her veins, they’d never done anything like this before. “What if someone comes over?”

“The door’s locked and it won’t take long,” Frankie replied, turning her head towards Grace, catching her lips in a rough kiss.

Grace’s skinny fingers slipped past Frankie’s waistband, into her panties. She sucked Frankie’s bottom lip into her mouth and circled her swollen clit, unsure about which earned the moan from Frankie. 

Frankie moved closer to the counter and bent over it, leaving Grace speechless. “Baby?” Frankie breathed.

“Mmm?” Grace replied, not trusting herself to be able to form words at this point.

“If I ask you to do something, will it freak you out?” Frankie whispered, her face against the counter. 

“No,” Grace answered, shaking her head frantically even though Frankie couldn't see her.

“Pull my hair,” Frankie moaned, and Grace bit her bottom lip in anticipation. She wrapped her unoccupied fingers around a handful of Frankie’s thick mane and yanked it back, hard enough to get a reaction but not hard enough to hurt her. And, the reaction was definitely what Grace was hoping for: Frankie moaning her name, her back arched, neck visible.

“Fuck, this is hot,” Grace said, as she circled her fingers with more determination. Frankie hands were still gripped against the counter, her thighs shaking, begging for Grace to fuck her harder; she was close. 

“Tell me what you want to do to me.”

“How about I just show you?” Grace asked as she pulled Frankie up from the counter, her fingers still working double time on Frankie’s clit. Grace pushed Frankie forward, her body up against the counter. She laced her long fingers of her unoccupied hand back into Frankie’s hair and pulled her into her. She let her hair fall from her fingers and she wrapped them loosely around her throat, Grace’s lips grazed the soft skin of Frankie’s exposed back.

“Grace, I’m so close,” Frankie choked out between breaths, but Grace already knew. She squeezed her hand a little tighter against her throat and slowed down her pace while increasing the pressure on Frankie’s clit. It was something Grace had learned drove her crazy, something that made her come longer and harder than almost anything else they’ve tried. 

“Come for me,” She whispered as she bit down onto Frankie’s shoulder. Frankie listened, she always listened. She fell back against Grace as her orgasm subsided and Grace smiled into her hair, both of them spent. 

“Thank you for cleaning the kitchen,” Grace said, readjusting her stance to relieve some of the tension between her own thighs.

“Now how about we go make a mess of your sheets like I promised?” Frankie asked, like she could read her mind as she took the blonde woman by the hand and led her up the stairs to their bedroom.


	3. Snowed In

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> julia asked me to rewrite the ending of this fic for her so here it is, now added to my collection of smut :)

“Grace! Would you hurry up, we’re going to the mountains not New York fashion whatever!” Frankie calls up the stairs.

 

“Fashion week,” Grace calls down the stairs, “I’ll be just a minute!”

 

Frankie sighs and heads up the stairs. She knew what “just a minute” meant in Grace’s book.

 

She enters the blonde’s room and plops herself on the bed, bending her arms under her head, her memorable locks of hair flowing from every direction, spilling over her small arms.

 

“Frankie, I just made the—oh forget it” Grace sighs, exiting the closet and seeing Frankie sprawled across her bed.

 

“How do you think this looks, is it okay?” Grace asks, examining herself in the full-length body mirror.

 

Frankie flips over on her belly, holding her head up with her hands. “Now Grace, you can’t wear that!” she exclaims.

 

“Why not? Is there a stain..” Grace trails off, doing circles in the mirror, looking for the flaw.

 

“Grace, we’re going to Big Bear, you know, where it’s COLD, where we’re expecting a BLIZZARD.”

 

“And your point?” Grace asks.

 

“You’re wearing a cardigan,” Frankie complains. 

“It’s a nice cardigan.” 

 

“That’s not the point-you’re going to freeze your ass off!” Frankie hops up from the bed and makes her way to Grace’s closet, searching through endless racks of solid colored button ups and grey and black pantsuits.“Where are your winter clothes?” Frankie asks, frustrated.

 

“Well, I don’t really have any—we do live in La Jolla, in case you haven’t noticed, it’s not exactly the antarctic.” Grace sighs when Frankie rolls her eyes. “Besides, we’re only going up there to make sure the cabin is ready before the blizzard hits, we’ll be out of there before any snow falls at all,” Grace reasoned. 

“That doesn’t mean it won’t be cold,” Frankie starts then thinks better of it. “Forget it, we’ll just get you something warmer than a sheet of paper on our way up.”

“Fine,” Grace agrees. And with that, they were finally heading out the door. After picking up a warmer jacket for Grace, they stopped at Frankie’s favorite coffee shop then began their drive up the mountain.

 

“So what exactly did the guys say we needed to do?” Frankie asks, looking over at Grace whole sipping her warm coffee.

 

“I don’t know, but they said there’s a checklist on the fridge,” Grace responds without taking her eyes off the road. 

 

The car went silent, much to Grace’s delight and Frankie quickly became restless.

 

“99 bottles of kombucha on the wall, 99 bottles of kom—”

“Frankie,” Grace warned with a glance to her right. Frankie let out a little huff and rested her arm in the window, using her hand to prop up her head.

 

“Are we there yet?” Frankie asked for what felt like the millionth time.

 

“No,” Grace sighed, “but almost.” Frankie slightly smile at her response and settled into her seat, a bit more content.

 

“Why do we have to do this again? Why aren’t Sol and Robert doing it, they’re the only ones who ever used the place, if you know what I mean,” Frankie said, not bothering to hide her annoyance. 

“As unpleasant as that image is, yes I do. And, I told you, they’re going on that vacation remember? They’re going to Hawaii,” Grace replied. 

“Those bastards” Frankie said, defeated.

 

“Why? Because they’re going to Hawaii? You’ve been I thought?” Grace asked. 

“No, well, yes I have been, but not just that. I guess I’m just still bitter that they blew up our lives and they get to live happily ever. Christmases spent together in Hawaii, someone to hold at night, and we’re...alone as fuck.”

 

“Frankie, we are NOT alone as fuck!” Grace demanded, gripping her steering wheel tighter, “What, were you in a bunker in the 60’s?” Grace laughed, mocking Frankie.

 

“You know what I mean,” Frankie sighed, peering out the window. They were almost up the mountain now, surrounded by tall pine trees and gloomy weather. 

 

“C’mon Frankie, I don’t like to see you like this,” Grace whined.

 

“Maybe it’s the weather Grace, or maybe it’s the holiday season. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to bum you out.”

“You’re not, I understand,” Grace thought about reaching over the center console and resting her hand on Frankie’s. She wanted to comfort her. But it was a fleeting thought that was soon gone. 

 

Grace pulls the brake to a halting stop, jolting Frankie from her trance, as they park in front of the cabin.

 

“It looks different,” Grace observes, tilting her head to the side. 

“When was the last time you were here?” Frankie asks.

 

“I honestly don’t remember,” Grace says. She breaks eye contact with the now unfamiliar house and locks the car, fumbling in the pockets of her new big navy blue parka for the cabin keys. 

 

Frankie rubbed her hands together and watched Grace, noticing how beautiful she was. Her soft pink skin and rosy cheeks popped against the gloomy background of the sky, and her ice blue eyed struck her almost more than the cold weather did. He blonde hair was blowing softly in the wind, mixing with the blue faux fur along the hood of her parka. There was such an innocence about her, and Frankie was enthralled by her. She suddenly noticed she was staring and looked down at the ground, drawing patterns in the snow with her feet.

 

“Found the key,” Grace sighed. “Finally,” she added, walking up the stairs to the front door and unlocking the door.

 

They made their way into the tiny cabin and Frankie headed straight for the thermostat, cranking the heat up as high as it would go.

 

“Frankie—don’t turn the heat up too high. I don’t want it to be a sauna in here!” Frankie heard Grace call from the other room. Frankie sighs and turns it down a few notches before turning around and going to find Grace. She was just reading the list left on the fridge when Frankie joined her.

 

“Okay, let’s start with the patio furniture—that seems like the biggest task, so let’s just get it out of the way,” Grace says.

 

“That is a really long list, Grace” Frankie said, seemingly horrified as her eyes scanned the list.

 

“We have a lot of things to do,” Grace agreed, then walked to the back door.

 

“My least favorite amount of things to do,” Frankie said quietly, following Grace.

After pulling the patio furniture under the awning so it wouldn't get too damaged by the snow, the women head inside to tend to other matters.

 

Hours pass of mainly Grace tending to the cabin, and Frankie singing throughout the rooms of the house before it finally begins to warm up. It soon grows dark and Frankie becomes restless.

 

“Grace, are we—” Grace shoots her a look and she rewords her question. “I mean you—are you almost done?”

 

“There's just a few more things I need to finish….if you're hungry I brought a cooler, it's in the back of the car,” Grace tells her without turning to look at her. 

“Christ on a cracker! There's been food here the whole time?! You've been holding out on me, you hussy!”

“Well I didn't want you to eat it all on the way up, and I think you misused that word,” Grace says, rolling her eyes and folding a sheet.

 

Frankie erratically makes her way to the door, but when she opens it, she's met with a wall of snow. “Um, Grace?” Frankie calls. 

“What is it now Frankie?”

 

“I think someone stole our driveway”

 

“Frankie, what on earth are you talki—” Grace is stopped mid-sentence when she rounds the corner and makes the realization that they were snowed in. “Oh, fuck me!” Grace says, incredulous. 

Frankie starts wringing her hands. “Grace, what are we supposed to do?” she asked, looking up at Grace with those big, worried blue eyes, for further instruction. 

 

“I—” Grace pauses, looking back and forth at the wall of snow before them, “Frankie, I don't know.” Grace squeezed Frankie’s arm for reassurance while walking past her and heading into the living room. 

 

She flipped on the old radio they had and began scanning through the static, listening for the local radio station. Finally, a crackling voice came through. “Not sure — largest blizzard — stay inside,” The words were broken up but the women got the point.

 

“Well, this is just fucking fantastic,” Grace sighed, slamming the radio off and throwing her hands in the air. She begins pacing the room and Frankie is right on her tail. “Stop following me!” Grace yelled, frustrated. 

 

“Hey! don't get snippy with me, I'm scared. You wear the too-tight pants in this relationship, I don't know what the fuck to do!” Frankie yells back.

 

Grace rolls her eyes and sits on the recliner, but Frankie keeps pacing.

 

“OH my god, what if there was an avalanche?” Frankie panics. “What if our whole house is covered and they'll never know because they can't see it and then we both run out of food and water and heat and one of us has to eat the other like Guy ate his best friend and you’re so fucking skinny I can’t imagine you have that much meat—” 

“Frances,” Grace says sternly, grabbing the woman's shoulders, “we are NOT going to die, and nobody is eating anybody!”

 

“You promise?” Frankie asks, her face still clothed with worry.

 

“I promise,” Grace says although she’s not so sure, she plants a kiss on Frankie’s forehead anyway.

 

Grace went into the kitchen to grab her phone, there was no connection and her phone was almost dead but she thought there was no harm in attempting to send a text.

 

“Snowed in at cabin—come help us,” she pressed send in the group chat she had with Mallory and Brianna and began to walk around the cabin until hopefully she would hit a spot that had service. Grace was cool and collected, she had to be, for Frankie. She knew if she showed any sign of worry Frankie would be insufferable. She also knew that they would be getting help soon. Or at least, she pretended to have confidence that they would. 

 

“Grace, I’m still hungry,” Frankie whined from the other room. Grace threw her head back and groaned, realizing she too was hungry. 

A few hours pass, the women had been watching old DVD’s, and Grace begins checking the time on her thin leather wrist watch, getting more and more anxious. Her phone was on 10 percent and she had left her charger in the car. 

 

She stands up to head to the kitchen to look for any sign of food, or alcohol. Hopefully alcohol. There was nothing in the fridge, or the pantry. She opens the freezer and smiles. A bottle of vodka and a mostly empty pint of ice cream. She pulls it out and walks into the living room, hiding the ice cream behind her back. 

“I found dinner,” the blonde chuckles as Frankie makes a disgusted face and sighs. “I also found something for you but it’s almost gone,” She tell her as she pulls the ice cream out from behind her back. She hands it and a spoon to her and Frankie’s eyes light up. 

“Oh thank the goddess!” Frankie throws the lid off and digs in. “Fuck me! Brain freeze! This is bad!” Once she gets her brain freeze under control, she holds the ice cream out to Grace. She’s about to shake her head when her stomach rumbles, reminding her she needs to eat. 

“Just a bite,” Grace agrees, taking it from her friends hands. 

“That’s pretty much all that’s left anyway,” Frankie says. “Finish it, it won’t kill you.” She tells the skinny woman before her. Grace rolls her eyes, but does what she’s told. She sets the ice cream aside and grabs the vodka with a smile. It falls from her face when she sees the frown on Frankie’s. 

“Oh come on, let’s try to make this fun!” Grace says, very persuasively. 

“Vodka is not even in my top five favorite drinks,” Frankie groans, “but I suppose it will have to do.”

Grace sits next to Frankie on the couch and takes a swig straight from the bottle, then passes it to Frankie. Frankie hesitates, then takes a drink and makes a face. 

Suddenly, the natural rhythm of the house comes to a halt. The television powers off and the lights go dark.

 

“Fucking hell,” Grace says in the dark. 

“GRACE!” Frankie yells, panicking.

 

“It’s okay Frankie, I’m right here,” Grace reaches out in the dark and grabs Frankie’s arm with one hand. With the other she pulls her phone out of her pocket and turns on the built in flashlight.

 

“I think I remember where the candles are,” Grace says quietly, standing up.

 

“Oh no, don’t you fucking leave me!” Frankie pleads.

 

“Just come with me!” Grace groans, annoyed.

 

“Oh, right.” Frankie stands up and lets Grace guide her through the dark house. Grace quickly finds the candles and matches and sets them up on the coffee table in the living room and a few other places, the bathroom, the kitchen, the hall. 

Grace resumes her place on the couch but Frankie opts to sit on a pillow on the floor on the opposite side of the table. The flashlight on Grace’s phone quickly flickers out as her battery dies, and Grace pretends not to be worried. She repeatedly tells herself in her head that the girls would be there any time and they would be okay. 

 

“What are we gonna do?” Frankie asked, her voice riddled with worry.

 

“Well, we’re going to wait I would guess. And we are NOT going to panic.”

 

“Okay,” Frankie sighs.

 

The room goes silent again and Frankie becomes restless.

 

“OOOOH, let’s play a game!” Frankie blurts out.

Grace’s first instinct was to say no, but at this point she was out of options and the vodka was beginning to lower her inhibitions. 

 

“Fine, but wait—what are we going to play?” Grace asks.

 

“There’s no board games….and not enough people to play spin the bottle, unless you just want to make out?” Frankie jokes and Grace’s face turns red. 

“I do not want to do that,” She answers with a roll of her eyes. 

“Then, truth or dare it is!”

“Frankie, what are we, in college? Besides, I’m pretty sure at this point you know more about me than I know about myself,” the blonde says sarcastically.

 

“Well, what’s your great idea?” Frankie challenges.

 

“Well, I mean—” Grace scoffs, thinking a little too long. 

 

“Well?” Frankie pushes. 

 

“Ugh, fine, we'll play truth or dare.”

 

“Yipee!” Frankie squeals, covering herself up more in the big quilt she had found in the spare bedroom. 

“Hey, let me under there, I'm cold,” Grace says, scooching down to the floor, with the bottle of vodka in her hand and wraps the blanket over her shoulders.

 

“Gee, I would've thought the vodka would've warmed you up,” Frankie teased.

 

Grace shot her a look and took another drink.

 

“You go first,” Frankie said excitedly.

 

“Truth or dare?” Grace asked reluctantly, her eyes rolling again. 

“Truth,” Frankie says, smiling. 

 

“Even though you say you don't - have you ever accidentally used my toothbrush?”

“Yes.” Frankie nodded her head. Grace threw her head back and groaned. “But it was only once - a dozen times max,” Frankie laughed.

 

As the minutes ticked on, and the vodka became scarce, the women continued to play. Some time later, they found themselves on the far side of tipsy and quickly grew tired of only answering truths, but neither wanted to be the one to break the cycle. 

“Truth or dare?” Frankie asks. 

 

“Truth.” 

“Come on! This is boring, do a dare” Frankie begs, laughing. 

 

“No!” Grace whines, chuckling and swaying back and forth on the ground. 

“Pleaaaaaase, Grace. Please do a dare. Pretty pretty please with a cherry on top—”

 

“Oh fine, dare!” Grace groans before downing the last bit of the bottle and sets it on the floor.

 

“Oh goody!” Frankie squeals, she thinks for a minute and Grace becomes impatient.

 

“Frankie,” Grace begins.

“Don't rush me!”

“Just dare me to do something it's not that hard!” Grace sighs. 

“It is!” Frankie argues.

 

“Frankie would you please just—”

 

“I dare you to kiss me” Frankie blurts out. 

 

“Oh Frankie, come on, you can do better than that,” Grace leans over and places kiss on Frankie's forehead. 

 

“No Grace, I mean, I want you to….Kiss me.”

 

Grace sits a bit further back from Frankie, looking at her in a new light. “Are you that drunk?” Grace laughs. 

“Hey! Now, you don't need to be insulting!” Frankie defends, “If you can't take the dare that's fine, I'll give you a pass.”She shrugs. 

“Please Frankie, I could take the dare, it's just not a good dare. Think of a good one!”

 

“You're scared” Frankie teased. 

“No, I'm not,” Grace argued, squinting her eyes, trying to read Frankie's mind. She looked at the woman's soft features. The way her hair was always so perfectly messily placed. She looked into her dark blue eyes, and examined her lips, trying to understand what was going on behind all those beautiful features. 

 

“No Grace, really, it's fine. I mean, I'm not the one who's going to have to live with the shame of backing out on a da—”

Frankie's taunting words are cut off by Grace’s soft lips being pressed into hers. Frankie's fingers went numb and her stomach felt like it was doing flips. Grace’s cold hands were resting gently on her cheeks. It was a short soft kiss, one that left her head spinning.

 

Grace pulls away, biting her lip, suddenly struck with the realization of what she had done. Frankie’s face was flushed, but also confused. The women didn't break eye contact.

 

“Frankie—I'm, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that I know we were just—” Frankie grabs Grace’s face and pulls her closer.

 

“I've been waiting for you to do that for years,” she sighs and leans back in, this time with more intention, more preparedness.

 

Frankie starts with a soft kiss, getting a feel for what Grace felt like against her. The sparks between them were almost tangible, and left Frankie wondering why she hadn't done this sooner. Grace pulled away, grabbing Frankie's face and looking at her, her chest raising and lowering rapidly, gasping for air despite the kiss being short. Her eyes darted back and forth over Frankie’s, before she kissed her harder this time, allowing Frankie to fully take her in. Grace crawled closer to her, sitting on the brunettes lap, she wrapped her legs around her soft body. Frankie slips her tongue in Grace’s mouth and she welcomes it, suddenly needing more from Frankie than she ever thought possible. 

“I need more of you,” Grace breathed, her forehead pressed to Frankie’s, eyes closed. 

Frankie pulls away and starts kissing down her neck, the kisses were warm but they sent cool electric shocks down Grace’s spine, causing her back to arch into Frankie and the woman to let out a slight moan.

 

Grace reaches for the bottom of Frankie's shirt and pulls it up over her head. She stares for a moment, in awe. She had never been with a woman, and now she couldn't understand why. Frankie, her best friend, sitting there, completely vulnerable under her, blue trusting eyes peering into her soul, her bare flesh and nearly exposed breasts inches from Grace’s fingertips, it was more beautiful than anything she had ever seen. 

 

“You are so beautiful,” Grace said, bending down to kiss Frankie again, allowing her fingertips to run up and down the long canvas that was her back. Eventually her hands land on the bra strap.

 

“Is this okay?” Grace asks. Frankie nods her head yes, with that grace unhooks the bra and lays Frankie down, lying on top of her, one of her knees between Frankies legs.

 

Grace continues to push into her, kissing her deeply, and pushing Frankie's legs further open with her own. She traces her fingertips over one of Frankie's breasts and Frankie’s breath hitches.

 

“Are you sure you've never been with a woman?” Frankie asked, eyes dilated. 

“Positive,” Grace laughed back, more confident than she was before. 

“You just seem like you know what you’re doing,” Frankie said between kisses, looking up at the woman, taking in how beautiful she was. Her short blonde hair falling just right around her face.

 

“Well, maybe I just know what I want,” Grace responded.

 

“And what might that be?” Frankie asked. 

“You,” Grace responds, sending kisses down Frankie's neck and across her collarbone. 

 

“You want me?” Frankie asks just as Grace had made her way to her breasts.

 

Grace came back up to Frankie's line of sight. “More than I’ve ever wanted anything,” she said, placing a soft kiss on her lips. Just then the old grandfather clock struck midnight. “It's Christmas,” Grace gasped, completely having lost track of time. 

 

“And a merry one indeed!” Frankie laughed.

 

“You just wait,” Grace teased back, before taking one of Frankies nipples between her teeth and gently biting then flicking her tongue over the hot flesh, tasting salt and earning a moan from both women. Grace looked up through her eyelashes to see Frankie intently watching her, her bottom lip between her teeth. Grace kissed her way up Frankie’s body before connecting their lips in a searing kiss, she supported herself up with one arm, the other was trailing down Frankie’s slowly body and came to rest at the waistband of her slacks. 

Grace sat up on her knees and hooked her fingers into the band of Frankie’s pants. “Can I?” Grace asked looking into Frankie’s eyes, not wanting to push her further than she was ready for.

“God, yes,” Frankie sighed before placing her hands on Grace’s and helping her slide her plain cotton panties and corduroy pants down her thighs. Grace wasn’t sure how to do this, how to give Frankie all she wanted to, wasn’t even sure Frankie would want her to. Grace tossed Frankie’s clothes behind her and slid down until her face was even with Frankies pelvis. 

Grace parted Frankie’s legs further and settled between them. “Is this okay? With my mouth, I mean? Is that what you want?” Grace asked, feeling more shy than she had in her entire life.

Frankie sat up on her elbows and looked into Graces eyes. “Yes, Grace,” Frankie choked out, and it sounded almost like a moan. Wow, Grace thought, I did that to her without even doing anything to her. 

“I’ve never done this, so tell me what to do,” Grace pleaded, the need to succeed even in this shining through her cloudy mind. Grace licked her lips and lowered herself down, placed her arms around Frankie’s thighs and kissed the top of her pubic bone. Grace slowly made her way down with small kisses, then bypassing Frankie’s clit, she placed a long, flat lick up Frankie’s slit, collecting her arousal on her tongue, tasting her and moaning. The vibrations of Grace’s moan sent shocks through Frankie’s body, making her shiver. Grace closed her mouth over Frankie’s clit, and flicked the bud with her tongue. Frankie’s hand found its way to the back of her head and dug into her hair, pulling it lightly, making Grace ache between her thighs. 

Frankie pulled Grace’s hair again, harder this time and Grace moaned against her clitoris, before looking up at Frankie with hooded eyes. The other woman's head was thrown back, one hand on her breast, other in Grace’s hair, her back was arched and Grace had never once in her life felt the urge to paint anything, but after seeing Frankie like that, Grace understood why she painted. 

“In, Grace, inside,” Frankie moaned, almost incoherently and Grace smiled against Frankie before taking her right hand, the one with the good wrist and sucked two fingers quickly in her mouth, letting go of them with a pop, then she slowly sunk her pointer finger inside Frankie, while her thumb circled her swollen clit.

“I wish I was a painter,” Grace sighed, “I wish I could show you what you look like right now.” She moved her hand faster, pushed deeper inside of Frankie. “You’re beautiful,” Grace said as she watched Frankie, so close to coming undone. She listened as her moans became more erratic, louder. She watched Frankie’s eyes close, watched the thin layer of sweat drip down her neck. 

“Fuck, I’m coming,” Frankie moaned, her thighs shaking. Grace sat up, the pace of her fingers still unrelenting in and against Frankie as she captured the scream erupting out of Frankie in a sloppy, wet kiss. Grace withdrew her fingers and wiped her hand on the quilt beneath them then laid down next to Frankie, taking her in her arms.

“Uh, uh, uh! Not so fast, lets get you out of those clothes missy!” Frankie giggled as she shimmed out of Grace’s grasp and began fighting with the button on Grace’s jeans. “I can’t wait to taste you,” Frankie told her, making her moan and reminding her of the ache deep inside her. Grace’s head snapped towards the window as she seen a pair of headlights shine through the glass and hit the wall behind them.

“Fuck!” Grace groaned, as Frankie got up and began searching for her discarded clothes. “Fuck cell phones, I’m literally going to throw mine out the window on the drive home and run it over!” Grace whined. 

Grace heard Frankie laugh and looked to her right to see Frankie pull her shirt over her head, looking slightly disheveled but radiant. “What happened to my bra?” She laughed again, as she searched in the dark. Grace put her head in her hand, also laughing at the insanity of the whole situation. “Found it!” Frankie yelled from the corner by the front door, Grace watched as Frankie tucked the bra into Grace’s purse then turned back to her with a grin and a shrug before making her way over to the woman. There was the sound of distant car doors slamming outside as she sat down next to Grace and threw the thick quilt over their fragile bodies. She gave her a quick peck on the lips and whispered in her ear, “as soon as they leave, I’m gonna bury my face between your beautiful thighs,” right as the front door opened and the kids piled in.


End file.
